SANTA MONICA: "Maybe it's time." (3)
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and he said goodbye.

He began to walk away, up Bay Street, then stopped and turned back to look at me. Jamie gave me one last nod and a wave, then put his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans and turned his back one last time. But I didn’t turn away from him. I put my hand over my heart, then pressed it to my lips. Breathe, I told myself.

I stood and watched my best love walk away, and hugged myself from the chill that began to roll in as the sun dipped into the Pacific Ocean. I watched Jamie as he ambled up the hill, and he still had that strong, solid walk, a long lope that remained even as his body had grown thicker and more muscular with age.

I expected him to fade into the horizon, but well before that, three children scurried up to him and he reac...

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